


Betrayed

by maqcy



Series: Whumptober 2018 [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Angst, Anxious Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Betrayal, Bleeding, Blood and Violence, Blue Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson Swears, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Obedience, One Shot, POV Hank Anderson, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Programming, Protective Hank Anderson, Slavery, Supportive Hank Anderson, Thirium, Threats, Violence, Whump, Whumptober, Worried Hank Anderson, asshole todd williams, betrayed, biocomponents, diviants, prais
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 05:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16212224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maqcy/pseuds/maqcy
Summary: Connor is abandoned, bleeding out, on the street. Hank trips over him and decides to take matters into his own hands.





	Betrayed

**Author's Note:**

> This is a slight AU where the androids are programmed to ‘feed’ off praise. If they aren’t praised, they start to suffer synthetic pain and slowly break down - this is shown by their LED.  
> Many thanks to Imperial_Dragon for their beta-ing on this one, all remaining mistakes are mine.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Hank slogged through the rain, his hands shoved into his pockets and his head so far down that he all but tripped over the android that was sprawled at the side of the pavement.

“Shit!” he managed, staring down at the thing, which seemed to be more a pile of bloody, damaged parts than anything functional.

“Sorry…sir,” the android slurred. Its arm spasmed by its side. Soft brown eyes rolled upwards to look at him, before being lowered obediently.

“Fucking hell,” Hank muttered, staring at it. “Someone’s fucked you up real bad, huh?”

The android closed its eyes briefly and shuddered tiredly. It was too cold out here for androids to be out for any length of time, and especially sprawled on wet concrete. Hank crouched down beside it, blinking when the android flinched away from him. Androids weren’t meant to fucking flinch.

Hank touched its icy cold arm, grimacing at the tears in the limb’s outer layer, the bone-white of its interface showing through. Hank was close enough to see that it was male and that his LED was cycling red. So it wasn’t just injured, but praise-deprived too.

Without praise, androids suffered a slow decline into a broken, malfunctioning thing. Fuckers these days bought these cheap androids without bothering to read the manual. Just because androids didn’t eat and drink didn’t mean they couldn’t starve. It didn’t take more than a few words a day but this stuff was in their damn programming and the poor things broke down completely without it. Fucking humans.

Hank rubbed the android’s arm gently, “Try sitting up?” he said and the android obviously tried, obedient even as he was clearly suffering in the throes of synthetic pain, and Hank clenched his jaw in the anger at whoever had done this. Hank put his arm behind the android’s back to help prop him up against the wall and then stroked the male’s soaked, black hair out of his doe-like eyes. “Look at you, doing so good,” Hank said roughly. He wasn’t good at praising people but the android needed it and his eyes all but rolled into his head in sheer relief at Hank’s words. “That’s it, obedient aren’t you,” Hank continued. “So good, listening to me, being polite. You’re doing good, android.” Hank was relieved to see the android’s LED flicker from red to yellow and tension seeped from the male as his shoulders sagged.

“Thank you, sir, thank you,” the android mumbled, incoherent with relief. He’d probably been in a certain amount of pain for weeks, and severe pain for days, no wonder he was overwhelmed. Hank gripped his shoulders to steady him.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “How long’ve you been out here, huh?”

The android blinked a few times before he was curling in on himself, “I’m sorry, sir,” he said softly. “I don’t know, I’m not sure.”

Hank inwardly shook his head, furious that someone had fucked up this android so much as to leave him in this state, cowering in fear. Androids were tough; it took a lot to break them down but this one was like a goddamned rabbit.

“Hey it’s fine,” Hank said and petted his arm awkwardly, but the android relaxed into the pain-free touch regardless. “You did your best to answer me, that’s all I need. You did good.”

The android sighed quietly, his head lolling forwards for a second as he drunk in the praise, before lifting his head again to blink, slightly dazed, at Hank. Then he lowered his eyes again. Hank frowned. Damn shame it was, reducing an android to this.

“How damaged are you, android?” he asked.

The android blinked again, his processors clearly working unusually slowly, a combination of the injuries, the neglect, and the cold. Hank waited patiently, even as the rain was beginning to soak through his jacket into his shoulders.

“Thirty percent loss of thirium volume, nearing critical levels; thirium pump regulator is fractured, needs imminent repair or replacement; left audio processor severely damaged; left upper limb requiring replacement,” Hank glanced at the android’s left arm and grimaced. The thing was barely attached and was bleeding blue blood steadily down the android’s side. “Core temperature is currently detrimental to proper functioning and needs to be raised imminently. Central cerebral processing unit and thirium pump are functioning normally.”

Hank huffed, “Fuck,” he muttered.

The android flinched, “Sorry, sir-”

Hank’s stomach twisted painfully at the pure fear in those brown eyes, “Hush,” he said gently. He hadn’t taken his hand away from the android’s arm and he stroked him gently now, “It’s alright, you did fine. That’s a long list but you did good telling me. I’m not angry at you, android.”

The android was visibly relieved, “Yes, sir,” he said softly.

Hank continued to rub the android’s arm because it seemed to settle him a little. “Where does your owner live, huh?” he said after a moment had passed.

The android tensed and Hank didn’t miss the fearful glance he sent at Hank, before he dropped his gaze to answer, “D-down the street, sir. Third house from the end, sir, number one-hundred-and-four.”

“Alright, good job,” Hank said because he could see that the android was low-key freaking out again. “What’s your name, huh, android? What can I call you?”

The android blinked at him, “Whatever you wish, sir,” he said quietly, eyes averted.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Hank said. “But you must have had a name at some point, eh? Something someone named you?”

The android was silent, processing. “I think, sir,” he said slowly, “I was called Connor.”

Hank smiled, relieved, “Nice, that’s good,” he praised gently, watching as the android, Connor, shivered in response. “That’s a good name, Connor, I’m gonna call you that, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Connor said. “Thank you, sir.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Hank said. “Do you think you can try standing for me, Connor?”

Connor looked nervous again but he nodded willingly and it just damn near broke Hank’s heart. It was harder to be sympathetic when neglected androids were sour-faced assholes who snapped at every human like a fucking chihuahua, but Connor seemed good as gold and Hank hated that he’d still ended up like this; tossed out on the street like trash to power down alone and in pain.

Connor touched his good hand to the wall, his left arm hanging useless by his side, and tried valiantly to get to his feet. Hank stepped in quickly to steady him, pretending not to notice how Connor initially cringed away from his touch. Such a fucking shame.

“Sorry, sir,” Connor all but whimpered but Hank shushed him.

“You did good,” he said. “I asked you to try and you tried hard, Connor. You did fine.”

Connor looked relieved, “Yes, sir,” he said softly and Hank put Connor’s right arm over his shoulders.

“Just lean on me, alright. I need to have a little chat with your owner.” Hank was close enough to feel Connor tense at his words but the android didn’t protest at all, but did his very best to stumble alongside Hank, despite his left calf being visibly fractured and his right knee being soaked in blue blood.

“What did they do, take a goddamn baseball bat to you?” Hank grunted irritably, before quickly hushing Connor when the android mewled pleadingly and curled into himself, “Shh,” he said. “It’s not your fault. I bet you were good, alright. You seem like a good kid to me, Connor. You’re doing fine.” Connor’s head sank down onto Hank’s shoulder and Hank did nothing to discourage it, admiring the android’s tenacity as he continued to put one foot in front of the other, trying to obey Hank. “You’re doing good,” Hank praised roughly after a few minutes. “Almost there.” Connor made a small, soft noise.

“Please- please don’t return me, sir,” Connor said, barely audible.

Hank exhaled heavily. Connor wasn’t light and he was getting tired holding the android up but he pushed on. They were almost at the door now. “I’m not gonna, Connor,” he said as they came to the concrete front step and Hank lowered Connor carefully down to sit the trembling android on the ground. “Jus’ don’t listen to what I say to your prick of an owner, alright?” he said as he banged on the door with his fist.

Connor’s eyebrows drew up, flinching at the loud noise, “Sir?” he said, looking up at Hank, but Hank didn’t have a chance to answer before the door was being wrenched open by a bloated-looking man in his late forties with a nasty set to his thin mouth.

“This thing yours?” Hank said roughly, gesturing at Connor without looking at him. He saw Connor cringe away in his peripheral but made himself ignore it.

“Yeah, so what?” the asshole said, folding his arms.

“I wanna break it down for bio-coms,” Hanks said flatly, ignoring Connor’s choked whimper even as it turned his stomach. “Reckon we can make a deal?”

The asshole lifted his brows, glancing down at Connor with sadistic amusement.

“Please,” Connor begged softly, sounding devastated, betrayed even, and Hank felt a soft touch on his trouser leg. He hated it, but he just jerked his leg like the android’s touch was a nuisance.

Asshole smirked, “Depends what you’re offering,” he said, but Hank could tell he was going to agree. The sick bastard.

Hank shrugged like the matter was little to him, “It’s pretty fucked-up,” he said. “Dunno how much I can get off it, and it’ll need some heavy repairs.” Then he was silent, looking at Asshole expectantly. People tended to want to fill a silence and it was always better to let them set a guide price when bartering.

Connor’s owner grunted and scratched his belly, “Five hundred,” he said. Hank was silently pleased, that was lower than what he’d been expecting, but outwardly he sneered.

“Seriously? I dunno if I’m gonna be able to even get it home before it bleeds dry. One-fifty.”

Asshole snorted in derision. “I paid two fucking grand for it,” he snapped.

“Yeah, well, you’ve fucked it pretty badly,” Hank said coldly, his anger breaking through for a minute. He was painfully aware of the bloody, huddled figure at his feet. But he pulled his game face back on, “Two hundred,” he said.

“Four,” Asshole said.

“Two-twenty-five,” Hank argued back.

“I’m not doing a fucking cent less than three-fifty,” Asshole said and Hank paused, pretending to consider.

“Done,” he said finally and held out his hand. “You drive a hard bargain.”

Asshole grinned smugly as he shook Hank’s hand, not knowing that Hank would have coughed up the five hundred if Asshole had demanded it. He wasn’t sure his budget could have stretched to much more than that, though.

Hank pulled out his phone and Asshole gave him his details so Hank could transfer the money before he went back inside the house, shutting the door first, to go and fetch the android’s documents. Hank was relieved the asshole hadn’t lost them; things got so much more difficult when you had to get an android re-entered into the system.

“Please, sir, please don’t deactivate me,” Connor begged quietly from the floor. He didn’t touch Hank’s leg again, though, “Please-”

“Hush, Connor,” Hank said as gently as he could manage. He couldn’t explain to Connor right now, not when Asshole was going to come back any second. Connor obediently fell silent.

Hank finished putting in the details that Asshole, whose name was actually ‘Todd’, had given him but didn’t transfer the money until Todd returned with the documents. Hank took them, scanning them briefly but everything looked in order and he showed Todd the screen of his phone as he transferred the money. Todd pulled out his device to verify that the money had come through and then Hank nodded.

“Nice to do business with you,” Todd said, smiling coldly. He spared Connor an icy glance, “Fucking piece of shit appliance,” he growled, before he closed the door and Hank stopped hiding the anger he felt from his face. He shoved the documents in his pocket, zipped it up, and then reached down for Connor, who flinched away.

“Easy,” Hank said tiredly. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Can you get up for me?”

Connor, bless his fucking heart, did his best. He thought Hank was going to deactivate him but he still tried to obey. Hank supported the android best he could with one arm and used his other hand to call for a taxi while he led Connor a short distance away to sit the bloody android down on the floor under an Android Temporary Parking station. A passing woman gave them both a disgusted glance as she grabbed her android and tugged it away and Hank glared at her coldly.

Connor was shuddering, his hand pressed to his left arm, where blue blood was still seeping slowly out of him. Hank found a handkerchief in his pocket and urged the android to put it to the wound. Connor looked confused.

“But I’ll ruin it, sir,” he said softly, clearly fearful to disagree, but also scared of irreparably staining a fucking handkerchief.

“I don’t care, Connor,” Hank assured him. “Just apply pressure. I’ll get you some blue blood soon.” Connor blinked at him owlishly but obeyed, thanking him. Hank leaned down slightly as he gave in to the temptation to run his hand through the android’s wet hair, stroking his head gently. “You didn’t deserve this,” he muttered. “Fuck, no android does, but you’re a fucking gem, kid. You deserved a lot fucking better than that prick.”

Connor didn’t seem to know how to answer and his processors were clearly struggling to process Hank’s gentle touch, his words, whilst staying aware of his surroundings, and his eyes flickered closed briefly.

“It’s alright,” Hank reassured him. “Power down for a little while. I’ll wake you when the taxi comes.”

“Thank you, sir,” Connor said, falling insensate immediately, his head sliding sideways to lean against Hank’s thigh. The lack of blue blood made androids struggle to hold themselves up, their joints unable to kept turgidity in their limbs, but Hank didn’t mind the cool weight against his thigh. Androids usually somewhat approximated the temperature of humans but Connor clearly just didn’t have the energy for it.

The taxi arrived soon enough and Hank roused Connor to help him into the taxi. He told the system his address and the taxi sped away.

“Hang in there,” Hank told Connor. “We’ll be home in a bit.”

“Sir, m-may I a-ask a question?” Connor’s oral functions seemed to be struggling but he seemed to rouse himself a little inside the warmer taxi.

“Yeah?” Hank said, guessing what Connor was going to ask him.

“A-am I going t-to be deac-tivated, s-sir?” Connor stuttered.

Hank sighed and wrapped an arm around Connor’s shaking shoulders, uncaring of the blue blood getting all over his shirt.

“Do you remember me telling you not to take much notice of what I said to your owner? To that asshole Todd?”

Connor blinked and Hank waited for him to process, “Y-yes, sir,” he said.

“Alright, then,” Hank said. “Well, I was lying, Connor. I’m not taking you apart, I’m not deactivating you, and I don’t think you’re trash, alright? I think you’re a sweet android who deserves to be fixed up nicely and put in a nice warm home and praised regularly.” It was the absolute fucking basics: being operational, having shelter, and being given sustenance, but Connor looked at him like he’d offered him the fucking moon and Hank looked back at him sadly.

“Really, s-sir?” he said, looking at him with eyes that pleaded with Hank not to lie to him.

“Promise, Connor,” Hank said, tucking the hair that had fallen in Connor’s face out of his eyes. “I’m gonna get you some blue blood, then we’re gonna get you charged, and warm, and cleaned up. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Thank y-you, sir,” Connor choked.

Hank petted him gently, “Don’t thank me, android. It’s only what you deserve. Just relax now, okay. We’ll be home soon.”

Connor gave him a soft, watery smile that was tinged with tentative hope and Hank returned it wearily.

“Gonna be okay,” he said, and Connor closed his eyes, trusting him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think of the praise-kink thing!


End file.
